His wife lost all hope of him, and struggled, with the courage of a hero and the fortitude of a martyr, against the adverse tide that set against her.

She was fortunate in obtaining plenty of sewing, and was able to support herself and child very well; but her husband, now lost to all sense of decency, contrived to obtain, from time to time, a portion of her hard earnings.

She could never have believed that John Redburn would come to this; for, as a clerk in her father's counting room, he had been all that was good and noble; but there he was a miserable sot, lost to himself, to his family, and the world.
One morning in winter he was brought home to her dead.

He had died in the watch-house of delirium tremens.

He was buried, and peace, if not hope, settled on the brow of the broken-hearted wife.
Year after year Mrs.Redburn struggled on, often with feeble hands and fainting heart, to earn a subsistence for herself and Katy.